Thanlossen

After her night in the Hammer Hall, which at the very least did her no harm, Manadhlaer had been whisked around the Vale to a dizzying variety of safe-houses. This bright, bright morning, Manadhlaer had taken her breakfast in the Hall of the Order of the Fountain. Where Hammer Hall had smelled like a soldier's armpit directly after a battle, despite the most heroic efforts of Lieutenant Ancalassë, Fountain currently smelled like -- well, soap, and lots of it.

Nandutiriel did not need to keep watch over her sleeping comrades -- not even the gentle ones, híril Norliriel and the mysterious Elloen -- for plenty of sentinels with bows, even at night, peered down hawkishly and roamed the stones of Echad Mirobel.

Yet she could no more have rested than she could have flapped her arms and flown like Elloen's beautiful white eagle. Her mind was awhirl.

Scrawled in haste on a scrap of paper, tied to the leg of a white eagle belonging to Elloen

Captain Himwen:

We waited for you at Gwingris and Echad Eregion, but have proceeded to Mirobel. We helped Elloen. He seems improved.

Reliable intel from the locals at Mirobel says there is a big, old Orc among those who occupy Barad Morlas, who carries the insignia of the team that assassinated both Celebrimbor and Elloen's parents. Will explain in full when I next see you.